


5 Foot-nothing with a rusty pipe

by fixme_in_fortyfive



Series: Tumblr Prompts & Drabbles [4]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Peterick, Protective Patrick, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 14:24:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6614137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fixme_in_fortyfive/pseuds/fixme_in_fortyfive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt I got from a lovely anon: can you write something Peterick where something happens to Pete and Patrick comes to the rescue? Usually people write it the other way around but Patrick would be just a great at defending Pete (in whatever scenario).</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Foot-nothing with a rusty pipe

Okay, look. Pete is an idiot. That’s just… That’s like saying ice cream is cold. Patrick isn’t being mean when he says it.

But Pete is not stupid. There’s a difference, because Pete is actually pretty smart.

He’s just careless sometimes. And reckless and not thinking farther ahead than he is tall. Like that time he let Dirty shoot him in the ass with a paintball gun. 

And even though Patrick knows that whatever idiotic thing Pete is doing that day is not going to end well he lets it slide. It’s not his place, he’s not Pete’s mother.

Besides, sometimes it’s pretty funny, too. Like that time he let Dirty shoot him in the ass with a paintball gun.

But when Patrick finds him after one of their shows in an alley behind their buses, surrounded by three guys at least a foot taller than Pete, he’s thinking _stupid_ and not _idiot_. It looks like a scene out of a high school movie – jocks beating up emo kid after school. Just that it’s almost pitch black, aside from one meager street light that does a rather bad job at lighten up the surrounding streets.

He has no idea what’s going on and he’s not sure that it isn’t Pete’s fault, but it looks bad. Bad in a ‘ _if you don’t do what we want we beat you to a bloody pulp_ ’ way. And there’s no one around except Patrick.

**Shit.**

For a moment Patrick thinks he better goes and finds someone – Markus or Dirty, someone who doesn’t look like a 16-year old – but then one guy, the one closest to Pete, steps up another few feet. There’s a moan that sounds a lot like it’s coming from Pete and then Pete drops to the ground. Patrick couldn’t see what happened exactly, but he has a pretty good guess.

So he’s not really thinking about it when he shouts out to their little group and hurries closer.

“What’s going on here?”

At once the guys turn around, all three of them dressed like they just stepped out of a mobstermovie. The biggest of the three, the one who knocked down Pete, is obviously the alpha male. Behind them Patrick sees Pete with his hands on his stomach still on the ground, coughing loudly and curling in on himself.

“That’s none of your damn business, kid. Go away!” Alpha-guy looks sleazy and somehow it makes Patrick’s skin crawl. But he tries not to show nervousness, hopes his face looks at least composed and calm.

“You just knocked down my bass-player, so I think this is my damn business.”

“If you don’t go right now, you’re next.” he says and without him doing anything else one of the guys comes up to him and pushes Patrick backwards.

“Don’t worry, we won’t hurt your boyfriends pretty face.”

It’s not the first time someone assumes that he and Pete are more than friends, but it’s the first time it sound so demeaning, like it’s something dirty.

And that rubs Patrick the wrong way. He’s looking around, his mind working overtime, to find a way out. He’s not the kind of guy who beats up other people, has really now experience, except for a few small arguments with Pete that ended with some bruises.

Patrick thinks about just tackling the guy, at least doing something, when he spots just what he needs on the ground lying a few feet away from him.

“Well, if you say it like this.” Patrick says and turns – as if to leave – and he can hear the mocking laughter of the other guys.

But he’s not going anywhere. With his back to their group he crouches down to pick up the broken pipe he spotted just moments ago. It’s dirty and rusty, but heavy, too.

When he gets up again and turns back to the other guys, he holds the pipe firmly in his hands. He feels confident now, probably adrenaline or maybe he’s an idiot, too, now.

“Step away from him!” In his head Patrick sees himself (patting) the pipe into the palm of his hands – like they do in the movies – but he doesn’t actually do it.

Patrick is sure he looks anything but menacing. Five foot nothing with a rusty pipe against a group of jocks. The jocks seem to think along the same lines because they take a look at Patrick and then there’s even more laughter.

And that just makes Patrick mad. He knows he’s not the tallest guy - or the strongest - but he damn well wants to be taken seriously. So he takes a step forward and swings the pipe at the nearest guy around him. He misses by an inch because the guy jumps backwards, but there’s no more laughing around him.

“I’m not gonna repeat myself.”

For am moment they look unsettled, looking back and forth against each other and Patrick thinks he can actually feel the moment their mindset change.

“Okay. We’ll leave, but this isn’t over.”

Patrick thinks, as they turn to leave, one of them might take another swing at Pete, but they don’t. They have to move around him and Patrick makes sure to not turn his back to them. When Patrick can’t hear or see them anymore he lets go of the pipe – which clatters to the ground with a loud metallic crack, echoing through the alley – and crouches next to Pete. He’s concentrating really hard to squash the shaking in his hands, the self-confidence he felt before now leaving his body at once. That could have gone way worse.

“I’m really glad to see you, ‘trick.” Pete is still kneeling and now Patrick can get a closer look at him. He looks like he took a few more hits than the one Patrick saw himself.

“You always say that.”

“I always mean that.”

“Come on, let’s get you to the bus and clean up your pretty little face.”

See, Pete’s an idiot!

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can send me prompts and a ship, if you want. Either here or on [tumblr](http://fixme-in-fortyfive.tumblr.com/)


End file.
